


Stupid Steve

by Rosyworld



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 14:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20323387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosyworld/pseuds/Rosyworld
Summary: Steve thinks the real Tony wants him to visit. Thing is, it was a fake Tony and Steve is kidnapped by Hydra. Steve is stupid.Can and will Tony save him before it’s too late?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there and welcome to my first ff on here.. Endgame broke my heart so im just gonna ignore it right now and continue after Civil war :)
> 
> Lots of love!

Tony had been staring at this phone for what felt like hours now. He thought about calling him. Call Steve. No not Steve. He thought about calling Rogers.

The guy with the blond hair and broad shoulders, a clenched jaw when he was nervous. With his plush lips that stood in a stark contrast to his ocean eyes and those perfect teeth.

And then, when those ocean eyes appeared in front of him, so familiar and calm, he swore to himself that he would rather kill that man than call him.

Sometimes he wished he could face him again and not hold back with his repulsors. Shoot and shoot until Rogers was bleeding and coughing and-

He couldn’t finish the thought.

He knew he was lying to himself.

He could never kill that man.

Even if he should probably want that after everything the man did to him.

He grabbed the phone and clutched it to his heart, cursing and hissing under his breath as he held it close and sunk his chin over it.

"I hate you." He whispered before he threw the mobile back on the desk.

——————

"Steve, you can’t just sit there and - do nothing!" Clint shouted, Steve could see the fury in his eyes, the exhaustion. But more than all that, he saw longing. For his kids, his family. 

Steve felt so sorry for him and what he felt even more sorry for was that he didn’t know what to tell Clint anymore. 

He just sat there in silence, his eyes tracking Clint as he walked up and down in the kitchen.

"You screwed up, Steve! We all did! You can’t just sit there like a total idiot..." Steve didn’t even think of defending himself. He deserved it.

Clint wasn’t done yet. "I mean look at you! You look like a fucking mess-"

"CLINT." 

Steve looked up. It was Sam.

"We can’t still live in the past. We need to move on. Fighting each other won’t help us now." He said and stood next to Steve like he was protecting him.

"It’s shit. That’s what it is." Those were the last words Clint said before he left the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind him. He wasn’t wrong.

Silence followed.

"Steve-"

"It’s okay, Sam."

"Just know... I got your back. Always." Sam said nevertheless and Steve felt a grounding hand on his shoulder, giving him something steady to hold onto.

"Thank you, Sam." Steve said and finally lifted his head up to meet Sams honest eyes.

Soon, Steve was the only one sitting in the Wakandan kitchen. He felt lonely. It wasn’t a good feeling but it was all he deserved.

Hell, he shouldn’t even be here. He should have went into the ice all those years ago and stay there.

But he didn’t.

And now he was living in his own personal hell.

He shook his head. Mom would be disappointed of him. Bucky would be ashamed of him if he weren’t frozen in a freaking cryo chamber. Sam would be speechless at his amount of self destructing thoughts and Tony would be... well he probably WAS hating him.

Everything was hopeless. 

Dark.

It was all there was. Everywhere he went, there was a darkness surrounding him like a shadow that never stopped growing and dragged him down. It reminded him of all the things he had done, the lies he had told.

Sighing, he stepped towards the huge glass wall and looked outside, the Wakandan forest greeting him like every single morning.

It was beautiful.

He hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear we’ll get to the Kidnapping part. Bear with me. How ya liking it so far? Leave some comments I have no idea how I’m doing! :)


	2. Chapter 2

"You and I both know very well that you could hand Rogers over any time but you choose not to because of what?" Ross asks and his eyebrows quirk up in amusement.

"To keep your consciousness clean? What do you owe the man anyways? Do you want to protect the man who helped your parents’ killer escape? Rogers is a threat to humanity and needs to be imprisoned. He can be happy if he ever gets to see sunlight again once we have him." Ross’ voice was filled with anger.

Tony just pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He had been listening to the same shit for hours and days now. 

"Stark, I ask you again. If you know the location of Steve Rogers I expect you to inform me and ME ONLY immediately. I want to see him face the consequences of his actions. I want to see him suffer and-." He rubbed his hands together as if he was starving for his next meal and could practically taste his success.

"It also should be in your interest to get this man behind bars, Stark." Ross voice lowers as he searches for Tonys eyes.

"Listen here, Ross. As much as I’d like to punch Rogers senseless and throw him into a rotten cell, I cant. That is because I simply do not know where he is." His words made Ross‘ nose twitch with disappointment.

Maybe he believed him, maybe he didn’t but that wasn’t Tonys problem. He couldn’t do anything about it.

"Are we done here?" 

Ross gives him a curt nod.

Tony leaves the mans office with a satisfied smile, praising himself for making it possible to allow Sam, Clint and Sam as well as Lang to walk on american soil without getting arrested the second they breathe.

He knew they didn’t deserve his help.

But it’s just what he did. He picked up the broken pieces all by himself. Every time.

——————

Steve watched them leave one by one. First, it was Clint. Then it was Scott and finally Sam walked up to him, apologized over and over again for leaving him until Steve ordered him to just go home.

Sam had done enough for him. He couldn’t expect the man to give up his home for him too. Sam was a good guy. He wouldn’t even think about telling Sam how much he needed him here.

Which was why, Steve was sitting at the kitchen counter alone this morning, gazing out into the jungle, his back facing the door since there would be nobody entering.

A few tears ran down his cheek and dropped into his coffee, salt mixing with bitterness.

Be a man, Rogers. Be a man.

His phone rang.

His head jerked up so hard he pulled a muscle.

He nearly fell over on his way to the kitchen counter, grabbed his phone and held it in his hands, wishing so badly that it was him.

"Romanoff" it said and Steve let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

Maybe it was better this way. He probably wasn’t even ready for a talk with Tony.

He pressed the button with shivering hands and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hey." He whispered and was shocked at how tired he sounded. Maybe because he was.

"Hello Steve." She answered, her voice rough as always.

It felt good to hear a familiar voice. 

"How was the mission?" She asked and he let out a gasp. "You know about the mission?!" He hissed in surprise.

"I know everything. Or a lot."

"...Clint told ya, didn’t he."

"Clint told me."

She was talking about the mission. THE mission. It wasn’t a mission really. It was his job to save his team members from Ross‘ bunker that he called a prison.

"Well... it went as expected. I got them all out and they were sent out into the world again because-" Tony did everything in his power to give them their life back. "The UN and Ross could be convinced that they are not and never really were a threat. Wanda is still hiding out with Vision as far as I know but they’re okay." He explained and she made a satisfied sound.

"I heard you’re conquering the rough life in Wakanda all on your own?" She teased and he wanted to cry at how good it felt to hear her.

"Yeah... I guess you could call it that.“

"You’re a coward, you know that?"

"Nat I-"

"You just let everyone leave and hide behind your huge pile of guilt. You hide from Sam, from Wanda, hell even Clint was pissed at you. And now you’re hiding from me." Her words cut deep and Steve wondered if that was because she was so right.

"And you know who else you’re hiding from?"

Tony. He wanted to say but his lips were stuck together like someone had just sealed them with glue.

"Exactly. You’re hiding from him. You think he hasn’t found you yet? Tony could blow your covers in the blink of an eye." He sighs in frustration because on one hand he still trusts Tony enough not to let Ross catch him. On the other hand he goes to sleep every night with a weird feeling in his stomach, the thought of being taken in his sleep torturing his mind. 

Then again, what would be so bad about being taken into custody and thrown somewhere dark and cold. He probably deserved it. 

Hell, he deserved worse.

"Call him." She whispers and Steves eyes fall closed, he bites his lips to prevent a broken sob from spilling. "Nat, I can’t."

"Why not. Why the hell not, Rogers?!"

"Nat, you don’t know how I feel when I hear his name. My stomach turns and I feel so sick that I could vomit, cry and beg how sorry I am all at once. I’m just so..." sad.

"And I know that if I’d talk to him now, I’d be mute and couldn’t even say how i feel because I DON‘T KNOW how I feel! I feel like shit but that‘s okay because-" I deserve it.

Silence followed as Steve had to calm down and put the phone on the counter, wandering around the kitchen, feeling the wooden floor beneath his feet.

His serum-enhanced ears picked up the small voice from the phone anyway.

"Listen, Steve. I know how hard this is for you. But you need each other. It’s also hard for him-" Steve sprinted for the phone again and held it in front of his mouth before he spluttered "H-How is he?" 

"Tony is Tony. He’s good. As good as he could be in his situation. Ross is constantly up his ass and does whatever possible to make his life harder but I think Tony has him under control. He’s taking care of himself. He spends a lot of time with the kid." Steve sucked up every bit of information.

"What do you mean he’s taking care of himself?" Steve asked and he could practically hear Nat smiling when she said "So you ARE interested. Ask him that yourself." and hung up. Just like that.

Steve nearly crushed the phone in his hands.

"God damnit Nat!" He shouted and grunted before he dialed her number again. He nervously bit bis lip until it was white from pressure.

"The number you have dialed does not exist, please-" He pressed the hang up button so hard the phone made a cracking noise.

"Come on!" He hissed and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbed his face between his hands and shook his head.

How much he would have liked to know what exactly Tony was doing. What project he was working on. What hairstyle he had and what kind of clothes he was wearing.

He wanted to see him. Hear him, talk to him and maybe let him shout at him too. He’d let him do it, he’d let Tony scream at him and scold bim, curse and shout and hit him. It would be okay and maybe just what Steve needed.

He huffed out a laugh at his thoughts. He was embarrassing and a mess. A true mess. He later on proved that to himself once again when he beat his fists bloody while destroying the punching bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and stay tuned :P


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS its happening.

Tony was staring at the shining shield in front of him. The bright colors of red white and blue stinging in his eyes. It had scratches and dirt on it. Memories came up. Bad memories mostly and he threw a huge sheet above it, gathering it up in his arms.

He went downstairs into the cellar and put it in the corner. Covered with the soft material, the shield didn’t look like a weapon. It looked so innocent.

And at the same time it was the thing that lead to a whole bunch of nightmares. It wasn’t like he needed more of them. The opposite actually.

"Tony?" A soft voice called and he turned as if he was just caught doing something illegal.

It was Pepper.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was covered with concern.

"Hey. I was just... sweeping the floor." He murmured and aimlessly waved his hands around.

"A ha.“ She nodded and slowly walked up to him.

"What." Tony said and shrugged his shoulders as he turned off the lights and stormed out of the dark room.

"You know that I cleaned that room yesterday, right?" She stated and followed him suit, walking up the stairs behind him like his shadow.

"Really? You got a few old yoga mats down there or wait, I’m sorry - pilates mats, right?" Tony muttered and came to a halt in front of his lab.

"Listen, Pep. I don’t wanna talk about it. I need some space. I need-" the doors slid open.

"I need a drink." He finally said and he knew what look he’d find on Peppers face if he turned around now.

So he didn’t.

He stood at his desk, his back facing her, as he pulled out his favorite gin from the bottom drawer.

When he dared to glance at the labs entrance a few minutes later, Pepper was long gone.

With a sigh he poured himself a glass and fell down on his black leather sofa.

He stayed there and stared at the wall before he let out a hiss and jumped up from the sofa, shouting "Friday, pull up the video feed from last week."

"Are you referring to Steve Rogers breaking into the bunker." She asked and Tony nodded curtly before saying "Yes. Fast forward to him facing security."

On the hologram the video feed pulled up and Tony was met with flickering camera footage.

In the middle of the screen he could make out a tall person, covered in dark clothes that was moving through the corridor and taking out the guards. He moved ruthlessly, striked without looking if there was somebody behind him, took one risk after the other. Reckless.

The next thing he saw were the cells, the dark figure opening one after the other. Tony motioned his hand and zoomed in as he got to Wandas cell. He could see the tall man crouching down in front of her, taking her in his arms and slowly opening the collar around her neck.

Tony was focused on the mans face as he stood up and held Wanda on her feet. "Stop the feed." He yelled and Friday did. "Zoom in on his face. Heightened quality please." 

What he saw now surprised him.

It was definitely Rogers. Without a doubt. 

Tony would recognize that face and body anywhere and solely because he had designed the mans suit. Not because he had stored up every single view of Steves ass and biceps and chest and back in his brain. Nope.

His face didn’t look as smooth and his hair wasn’t slicked back or parted. It was longer than usual. He noticed the dark circles around his eyes, looking like sleepless nights and nightmares. That served him right, Tony thought but before he could dwell on his anger, he saw how Wanda fell to her knees and Rogers followed her immediately.

Tony could see his eyebrows drawing together in concern, his mouth moving, saying something like "Hey, hey!".

He was covered in blood, bruises and cuts from the previous fights with the guards.

Still, he didn’t even show a slight sign of discomfort as he pulled her up and helped her towards the door.

He saw Steve handing Wanda over to Clint to help her out.

He watched closely as Steve ran back fo the cells and looked around as if he was checking if they forgot anything.

And then, just for a few seconds, Steve looked like he had zoned out, standing completely still, staring at the blank wall, his chest heaving.

He looked... lost.

Like he was thinking 'why am I here again'.

And Tony couldn’t hold back a victorious laugh because when had Captain America ever seemed lost.

He should have felt bad about the fact that Steve was suffering but he didn’t. He was glad, hell he was relieved.

He was allowed to be angry and full of hatred. After all, the blonde had chosen his long haired, murdering pal over him. The man who killed his parents.

He needed Rogers to suffer. Just like he did. He wanted to see him struggling. He wanted him to feel as abandoned as he felt, back in Siberia.

Tony and Steve had both lost in this battle. Looking at the big picture, Tony would say the aftermath was in his favor since Steve lost his shield and his team because he couldn’t get over his stubbornness. 

Steve who had talked to him and joked with him all this time while knowing.

Don’t bullshit me Rogers, did you know?

Yes.

Maybe Ross wasn’t so wrong when he asked Tony to turn Steve over. Steve deserved it after all. Tony could even visit him then without the worry of getting hurt. There would be a thick, indestructible wall of glass between them and Tony could leave whenever he wanted. He could just leave Rogers to himself, in a cell. Or he wouldn’t visit him to make Steve suffer even more.

Tony shook his head in disgust.

How could he think this way? 

"Stop the video, Friday. Any updates about his position?"

"No sir, Captain Rogers is still-"

It was all he needed to know. 

"Thanks Fri, I’m going to sleep."

——————

Months passed. Months of not seeing his teammates except when he watched the news. He talked to Sam and Nat on the daily but he still hadn’t had the guts to call Tony.

If he couldn’t talk to him on the phone, he just would have to meet him.

It wasn’t a special morning on which Steve decided that it was time to do something. 

Do something in terms of meet Tony.

The final thought came up when he was watching the news and saw him. Tony.

He could be seen on his way out of a russian hotel. It didn’t take him long to find out where exactly the hotel was located. Tverskoy, Moscow. Why the hell was Tony there? Wasn’t he having meeting after meeting with Ross?!

But maybe this was fate and Tony was there because it would be a good place to talk. Away from Ross and the others. Just the of them. Maybe it was sign.

It broke his heart.

He had to get this right. The team. Tony.

One last time, he went down to the lower quarters of Black Panthers residence and said goodbye to Bucky.

Bucky who didn’t hug him back because he was in a cryogenic chamber. 

Maybe Steve let a few tears slip. Maybe he cried. Nobody would ever know.

He met T‘Challa in his office. Steve thanked him for letting him and his team stay here. He also thanked him for taking Bucky under his wing but the man just shook off Steves expressions of gratitude because "It was the least I could do for you and your friends."

One last time he went to his room, appreciated the view he had on the jungle of Wakanda and grabbed his few belongings. His phone too, of course.

T’Challa even provided a jet for him that flew him to Russia. He took a few trains, had a few minor panic attacks because he thought he was being recognized. But he eventually made it to Moscow, a backpack slung around his shoulders, a cap pulled down deep in his face that was now covered by a little bit of stubble and full, longer hair.

He was surrounded by people and even more people. It was a funny feeling. Knowing that each of these people had a routine, a place to be, a string of thoughts racing through his brain.

They were just like him. Sort of.

Okhotny Ryad 2, Tverskoy, Moscoe. That was the adress of Tonys hotel. He noticed the stairs that he had seen Tonys frame walking on in the news and the doors his bodyguards had pushed open for him. 

He wanted to sit down on a bench in front of the hotel. Maybe he should just wait for Tony to come out?

Just as he wanted to grip the back of the bench, a familiar tone made him stop in his tracks.

He threw his backpack down on the bench, ripped it open and frantically searched for his phone. He sighed in relief as he felt it in his hands.

He unlocked it and saw that he had received one new message.

With shivering hands he pressed open and a name showed up on the screen.

His heart skipped a beat as he read who the message was from.

Tony had texted him. 

It was Tony. 

Tony.

The message said "Where the hell are you".

Steve looked up at the hotel and back at his phone. Was this Tonys way of saying: Come up here and visit me, we need to talk.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his bag under his arms and ran towards the hotel. With a hammering heart in his chest, he straightened his only jacket and took off his cap, letting a hand wander through his hair and took a deep breath.

When he stepped into the building, he gasped in surprise because the ceiling was incredibly high, golden, massive chandeliers hanging down and lighting up the marble hall.

He ignored the weird looks people gave him as he set his backpack down at the reception.

"I wish you a wonderful morning. What can I do for you, Sir?" The woman at the reception said and Steve snapped out of his trance.

"I ugh- I wanted to..." He didn’t really know what to say.

"Do you want to check into your room?" She asked him and made to get some papers but Steve shook his head vehemently. "No! No, I am here for ... Mr. Stark." The womans eyes went wide.

She leaned forward in her seat. "Mr. Rogers?" She asked and he felt incredibly stupid now. Why did he even come here. What kind of idiot was he to-

"Y-Yeah." He mumbled and gave her a curt nod, not wanting to draw attention.

She quickly stood up, making Steve flinch at the sudden movement.

"Please follow me. Mr. Stark is already waiting for you." She said and now a smile was on her face, all white teeth.

He did as he was told. They went through the big hall, Steve shooting glances left and right.

They stepped into an elevator. It was all shimmery and mirrored, making Steve reconsider the fact that he didn’t shave.

Steve felt slightly uncomfortable when they came to a halt in front of a certain room and he was felt down by two security guards.

"Sir required you to leave your baggage outside." She stated as a matter of factly and Steve hesitantly did as he was told.

He felt circled and under observation, noticing the cameras pointed at him.

"Can I see Tony now." Steve said, his voice deep and demanding.

"Get off jacket." The taller guy said with a heavy russian accent and was already pulling at the fabric.

Steve groaned as if he couldn’t believe Tony was treating him like a criminal. As if he had anything on him. And then he realized Tony was probably not trusting him one tiny bit.

"Okay-" Steve snapped and was now left in his boots, jeans and shirt, the only thing he still had on him was his phone.

"Go in." The tall guy said and practically shoved him forward. Steve growled and hated it but if that’s what Tony had told them to do, hw wouldn’t argue.

The door was opened in one swift motion.

His heart was hammering so rapidly it hurt.

Steve carefully took a look inside. It was a big room, luxurious, renaissance and.. not really Tonys style. Maybe he wanted a change. "Tony?" Tony was nowhere in sight. There wasn’t even a bag standing on the counter or a curtain drawn back.

Where the hell was Tony???

"Get in." The taller guy hissed again and he was pushed inside.

Enough.

He whipped around, ready to snap at that guy. Who did he think he was talking to?!

"Where the hell is Tony? I want to see him!" He barely let the words slip when he saw the woman from the reception laying motionless on the ground. His eyes snapped back up in horror but before he could take action, a sharp sting burned at the side of his neck.

His breath hitched and his hand went to his neck, feeling numb as he touched his own skin. He heard something metallic clattering to the ground, like a pin only much louder.

"What the-" he slurred and felt his legs giving out underneath him. His body crashed to the floor and everything turned black.


	4. Chapter 4

"Good morning, boss." Friday chirped when Tony entered the lab, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

After months he finally had had a good nights sleep. No nightmares, no screaming, no blood, no death. He slept... well and that felt incredibly odd.

"Morning Friday, anything new?" He checked his hologram, daily news and checklists, swiping through them.

"Everything remains in its normal order except for Steve Rogers’ location." 

Tonys hand stilled. "What?" he almost whispered and turned his head.

"Captain Rogers is no longer in Wakanda. I can’t find him on any camera or public place." Friday explained.

"What do you mean you can’t find him? Where is he?!" Tony could hear the panic in his own voice.

"Boss, you need to calm down. Your heart rate-"

"I don’t give a fuck about my heartrate, tell me where Steve is." Tony shouted and slammed his fist down on the table.

"I don’t know boss!" Was all Friday said and Tony couldn’t believe his own ears.

"What do you mean, you don’t know?"

Silence.

How could Friday not know something. Friday knew everything.

He ran up to his desk and took out the flip phone that was laying on top of it, quickly typing a message and waiting a few seconds before he hit send.

"Where the hell are you" it said and Tony was hoping that Steve would answer.

It was an action out of sheer panic.

He would probably regret sending that message.

It was probably nothing. 

Maybe Steve was just training in some Wakandan bunker where there were no cameras installed and where the chip in his jacket that Tony had designed for him didn’t work.

Maybe that was all and Steve would laugh at his weird text.

Shit.

"Call T’Challa." He ordered and the next thing he heard was T’Challas voice greeting him with a deep "Hello Mr. Stark."

"Maybe I’m overreacting but I can’t find Rogers." Tony said and there were a few moments of silence.

"As much as I value our friendship, you know I can’t give you that information." He said and Tony shook his head. "No, you don’t understand. This is... maybe an emergency. I just want to know if Steve-" he interrupted himself. "If Rogers is okay and not dying. Although he’d probably deserve it with his provocative ass."

A loud sigh could be heard.

"As far as I know, Captain Rogers demanded a jet that flew him straight to Russia. I think his destination point was Moscow."

"Moscow?! What does he want there?! Is he stupid?" Tony asked more himself than the man on the other line and once again a sigh could be heard.

"Isn’t that obvious, Mr. Stark? He wants to visit you." The man said and maybe he was just imagining things but he was slowly losing his mind.

"Visit me? In Moscow? What?!"

"I’m afraid you might be missing a point here. Steve Rogers wants to visit you. You are in Moscow, therefore he went to Moscow. It was all over the news. You were caught while eating at a restaurant, there are even videos and pictures of it." T’Challa stated and all color drained from Tonys face.

"Oh no..." A weird feeling rising in his stomach. "Friday, get the jet ready." 

"On it, Sir."

"Contact Romanoff, Barton, Banner and Wilson. Tell them Steve needs their help." Tony said.

"I can help. What do you think happened, Stark?" T’Challa asked and Tony sighed heavily. "Whatever it is... I have a bad feeling about this. Oh and that Tony in Moscow one hundred percent isn’t me."

——————

Steve woke up to darkness. Immediately he closed his eyes due to the stinging, surging pain.

His head was pounding and hurt like hell. He couldn’t even move his arms and legs. It felt like they were restrained. There really were restrains around his wrists and feet, tight and digging into his skin but that wasn’t why he couldn’t move them. It was as if his muscles didn’t quite work like he ordered them to.

Maybe it was the drug they gave him. Steve did remember a needle or something hitting his neck.

He winced as he tried to free himself, the material not moving one bit. His arms and legs felt sluggish and lax, like pudding.

So here he was. Obviously kidnapped. By who, he didn’t know. He was so confused. He needed answers. Why did Tony send him that text? And why had Tony been in that hotel?! Who even kidnapped him? 

Then the worst thought of all entered his mind: What if they kidnapped Tony too?

An uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, thoughts and scenarios building in his head. He felt panic rising and immediately forced himself to calm down as he gripped the metal beneath his fingers. "Be a man." He growled at himself.

Think, Rogers. Think!

They must have hit him with a syringe that made him numb and lose consciousness. Whoever made it, knew how to take out a Supersoldier.

After a few minutes he realized his head felt so heavy because he was sitting, his chin resting on his chest. There was a cold seat underneath him.

He could feel his fingers, he moved one after the other and felt them curling but still, he didn’t really get a grip. It felt like he had just woken up from a good nights sleep, his muscles weak and not able to contract.

He sighed as he looked down on himself, his vision a bit blurry. He was still wearing his pants and shirt. The boots had come off and-

the phone.

Where was the phone?

He frantically began twisting and turning, the thought of losing the only device that connected him to Tony a complete and utter disaster.

He broke out in a sweat as he stilled, realizing it was to no use since the restrains on his feet and hands wouldn’t budge one bit.

He tried to get on his feet and leave the sitting position but his body simply wasn’t able to hold him up. He slumped down on the seat again and huffed out a sigh of desperation. 

"Oh, it’s gonna be fun with you." He heard somebody say and he went still.

"Who is there." His voice was deep and successful in hiding his uneasiness.

"The person who will bring you so much pain." A shadow appeared from the corner of the room, heavy armor covering his body. He must have been here all this time.

"I highly doubt you know how much pain I’ve been through." Steve hissed and tugged at the restraints once again,

He just heard a chuckle.

"What did you give me?" Steve demanded and leaned forward, the muscles in his neck straining.

"Nothing that kills you. Just a little something to ease you up. Get you to relax a little bit, huh?" Steve was fuming with anger, his teeth clenched.

"What is it? You need some drug to control me?" Steve pressed and he could see the white of the mans teeth shining in the dark. 

"Where’s my phone! Give it back you asshole!" He needed that phone. What if Tony was in trouble.

But the man didn’t react.

"You piece of shit. Who the hell are you." Steve shouted and struggled against the metal again but it didn’t move one bit. He was so weak.

"My, my Captain. No need to get all worked up. I’m a.. how do people call it?" He came closer, setting screeching boot after boot on the concrete floor.

"Oh yes. A villain." The man was now in front of Steve and he could smell him, a penetrating scent filling his nose. It reminded him of Doctors and hospital beds. 

Now his hand was slowly wandering up the blonds face. Steve jerked back and locked eyes with the man, disgust on his face. The man had a rough, black beard. His hair was black too and his chiseled chin was connected to a definded jawline. His eyes were ice cold blue, his nose sharp and his hands were covered with black gloves.

Gloves meant he wasn’t looking forward to getting his hands dirty. It meant there was going to be a reason for him to wear gloves. Steve gulped.

The next thing he felt was a harsh slap on the cheek. "We’re gonna have fun." The man said and Steve looked down, seething with anger.

"Say yes, Sir." The man smiled expectantly and Steve looked up at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t be serious.

"Aren’t you gonna talk?"

Before Steve could snap back, he received a heavy punch to the left side of his face, knuckles against cheekbones. Steve groaned. 

"You’re gonna need more than that." He spat, immediately feeling two hits to his left again. His lip felt swollen and wet. He looked down, blood dripping from his mouth.

"Say, yes sir." The man said calmly as if it was the most normal thing in the world. But Steve wouldn’t submit to an asshole like this.

Steve decided to not give the man the pleasure of an answer and looked to the side.

He heard a pocket being opened.

"This, my little soldier, is a scalpel. They use this in hospitals. A place you never liked." He stated and was now stood behind him, holding the small knife in front of his eyes.

Steve just snorted.

"Such a pretty face." The man said and trailed it down the side of his face, pressing down as it slipped over the bruises from the hits, drawing blood. Steve tensed but held still, he didn’t want that thing in his eye.

"Throat too. Bet it looks good when it’s choking and red." He whispered right into Steves ear and made him jerk, only to feel the cold flat of the scalpel pressed against bis Adams apple. "Are you going to say it now or give me more time to get you closer to death?" 

Steve remained silent.

"How about this." The man said and before Steve knew what was happening, the man took a swing with his hand and stabbed the scalpel right into his side. 

"ARGH-" He lunged forward, his body curling in on itself. His hands wanted to press down on the wound, pull out the scalpel. He arched his back. He was panting, the scalpel shifting deep inside him whenever he moved. "PULL IT OUT! PULL IT OUT!" He screamed and gasped wetly as the scalpel was retrieved from his side. It was a relief.

He tried to focus on something, anything really. He fixated his eyes on the opposite concrete wall, tracing the cracks and holes.

"Talk." The man said and without warning, the scalpel was driven deep into his side again, making him scream out in pain "YOU SICK FUCK-". Repeatedly, it was pulled out and slammed back inside. "AHHH-" Steves eyes watered, sweat was dripping down his face. His chest was heaving, his teeth clamping down on each other.

"I'LL NEVER SAY IT" Steve gritted, the knuckles of his hands turning white as they gripped the metal armrest. Steve was coughing up blood, his body was shuddering.

"Trust me, you will." The man wrapped his arm around Steves neck, holding him in a chokehold. "Hold still." A searing pain raced through his body as Steve looked down and saw that there now was a needle stuck in his arm. Shit.


	5. Chapter 5

They were all gathered now. Well kind of. Nat, Wilson and even Clint were on their way to Russia too, only in a separate jet. They were constantly updating each other. Even T’Challa said he’d be there if they needed him - Whatever that meant.

The shrill sound of a ringtone made Tony jump.

He looked around the jet in confusion. The dull melody came from his bag. He slowly walked up to it and opened it. The song was now blaring through the room.

His hands were sweaty and shivering when he picked up the call. There was dead silence on the other line, he kept the phone close to his ear. He said nothing, just listened.

A weak but familiar voice interrupted the silence.

"T-Tony?"

"Steve!" 

"Tony." Steves voice was quiet and longing, relieved almost.

"Are you out of your mind? Where have you been?" Tony asked, his voice angry and distressed. "What were you thinking, just wandering off to Russia like you don’t even care what that means for the rest of the team. For me. Do you even know-"

"I’m sorry, I thought they were going to let me see you." Steve mumbled, ashamed of how stupid and naive he had been.

"Steve-" 

"I thought you..." Steves trail of thought seemed lost. His brain was fuzzy. Like someone put cotton in it. Also, there was a scalpel stuck in his side. The serum had already started healing around the wound.

"What are you talking about?"

"They- they got me. I’m- I don’t even know where I am and... I... I'm so sorry, Tony. Please, I’m so sorry." Steve was rambling, he knew that but he had to get it out now.

"Who got you? Talk to me Rogers!" He said, his voice loud and demanding. 

Tony was more confused than ever. All he felt was worry, fear. He never heard the man talk like that.

A deep russian accented voice interior his thoughts "Read the paper“.

There was a moment of silence and Tony heard somebody sighing. "But I can’t-" then there was the sound of skin hitting skin, someone breathing heavily and groaning. Tony gripped the phone tight. 

Who was there with Steve? What were they doing to him. He was getting so angry, his skin was curling as he heard the Captain reading.

"I-" Steves voice was ragged and rough as he forced the words out of his mouth. "I, Steve Rogers was captured by the last remaining heads of Hydra. No mercy. Just pain. Which is why-" A shudder went through Tony as Steve groaned in pain.

"Which is why you’re going to give us the information we need. If you don’t-" a soft whimper escaped Steves lips and he cursed himself for it. The scalpel was digging more and more into his side, tearing at his skin whenever he took a breath. It stung and stung and stung.

"-do it, your... beloved Captain will be the s-sacrifice and a symbol for your failure." Steve hissed and the grip on his neck tightened.

"He will be hanging from the sky like a doll strung up high." Steve had to let out a weak laugh since that was one hell of a rhyme. "You guys couldn’t find better wording? I thought this was the home of Tolstoi-" He spat and prepared for a swing to his left cheek again but instead a heavy punch landed on his stomach, knuckles like steel penetrating his insides, making him choke.

Tony was listening to it all, gathering every sound in the background, every hint Steve could have given him. Tolstoi- who the hell was Tolstoi?!

"Don’t make me have to put you in your place again. Read, soldier. " A deep voice growled and Steve did as he was told. "Tony, you're gonna need a pen for this." Steve said and tried to sound as normal as possible but the engineer detected the sheer panic in his voice. Rogers was just playing it cool. It was bad.

"Question one: Who knew of Program 44. Question two: What chemical was involved in Program 309 and what was the outcome?" After 10 minutes of Steve reading out questions, Tony had written them all down and he knew he could never give those people the answer to a single one of them.

Peoples life would be at risk and information like this in the hands of Hydra could lead to war or even mass destruction. He pinched the bridge of his knows. He could never give them the information. Never.

And he knew what that meant.

Feared what that meant.

"Answers in 24 hours. If not, you will find a video where Captain America is tortured and killed. And the last words leaving his lips will be-" He stopped and refused to keep on reading. 

"Rogers, don’t read it!"

Steve thanked god that Tony couldn’t see how the man next to him grabbed Steves face in his hands and hit him square across the face, then tilted his head up and did it again. And again. And again.

But Tony heard it. He heard all of it, the squelching sound of blood spurting and spluttering after each hit, the cracking of bones too.

"Go on, soldier." Tony could practically see the mans smile as he said that. He was going to crush him.

Steve was panting, coughing and struggling to stay conscious. A hand was burying itself in his blond hair and pulled, making his head slam against the back of the chair. He moaned out in pain.

"READ IT!" He shouted and Steve groaned helplessly as the paper was held in front of his watery eyes.

The next words hurt Tony deep. "And the last words on his lips will be... I died for you, Tony Stark." Steve whispered wetly, then pulled away from the mans grip which earned him a light slap on his head as if to say, We’ll talk about that later.

Tonys heart was hurting for Rogers. For Steve. He felt like the biggest asshole when he thought back to how he had wanted Steve to suffer. How he had wanted him to struggle and cry.

Now all he wanted was to get Steve out of that bastards hands.

Tony was miserable.

Steve was blinking the dripping blood out of his eyes as Tony responded "I’m going to tear you apart. You guys think I’m giving you answers to these shit show questions? What do you think, you think I’m stupid?"

"No Mr. Stark. We think you are a genius. Therefore you’ll be smart about playing with your friends life." The man said now, still sitting a few feet away from Steve.

"What if I don’t have the answers?" Tony asked.

"See, your friends life isn’t worth as much as you think, Mr. Stark. In fact, he’s completely useless. Fucking pussy. All the time he’s saying Tony, Tony, Tony as if thats going to help him." Tonys heart softened, his eyes fluttered closed. Oh Steve.

"So answer the questions or not. Your choice." The man simply stated and just like that the connection was gone.

Tony hadn’t even realized he had sat down during the call.

He was breathing, nearly throwing up and nearly crying. He didn’t know what to do now. He had 24 hours. 

He couldn’t just sit back and be devastated. He had to get Steve out of this maniacs hands. 

He cursed himself for ever wishing Steve pain and bad luck. Dwelling on guilt would not get Steve out however.

"Friday?" He whispered.

"Sir, I recorded the conversation. I analyzed the voice. The man is 39 years old, his name is Sasha Kapirov, he is a former Hydra agent but reportedly died when the three heli-carriers crashed down." The AI stated.

"Where is this Toystory from?"

"Do you mean Tolstoi?" 

"Yeah, that guy."

"He is a writer and was born in Yasnaya Polyana where he grew up-"

"Ok give me a map on the area."

A territorial description appeared on the hologram in front of him. He scribbled down some notes and mumbled incoherent stuff.

"Send the information over to Natasha, Clint and Sam. We’re going there. Change of course. Inform T’Challa too." 

"Yes. may I ask why you demanded this information?" Friday asked innocently and Tony smirked victoriously. "Because that’s where our golden boy is."

——————

When the call ended, the tall guy came over to him and leaned down, locking eyes with Steve.

"I’ll be back in no time, blondie."

That was the last thing he remembered before waking up again. He had changed rooms. And clothes too.

They must have drugged him again.

He was now topless. His pants were gone too, leaving him sitting there in his underwear. He felt more uncomfortable than he should have.

He felt the creaking of a door opening and the sound of footsteps entering the room Bright light shone into the darkness and Steve could make out numerous guards in the hall before the door shut again. 

"You missed me blondie?" The man sneered and Steve already had enough of him. "The name is Steve." 

"And my name is Sir." the man snapped back and pulled a seat right in front of Steves. 

The only difference was that Steves was made of metal and his of wood.

"What do you want from me." Steve slurred.

The man looked him up and down, his eyes roaming over Steve like he was prey.

"Nothing. I want something from Stark. You’re just the means to an end, the functional instrument." And Steve sighed because wasn’t that how it always had been. Wasn’t that how everybody saw him? He just was a fighter, a soldier, a working defense. He wasn’t allowed to be egoistic. Never. Not until Bucky turned up.

"You think Stark is going to come and get you? Do you really think we actually care about the answer to those damn questions?" The mans lips quirked up.

"Tony Stark." The man said, a smirk playing on his lips and Steves eyes were now trained to the floor.

"Say his name and Steve Rogers himself will come to you with nothing but a flip phone in his pockets."

The man finally sat down on the wooden seat, his legs spread widely as he leaned forward, hovering above Steves thighs.

He went on. "After all you’ve done to him, you think he’s going to save you? Look at you. So much weight on your shoulders." There now were hands lingering on his knees, almost caressing him.

Steve didn’t allow himself to think about the mans words. He wouldn’t fall for that strategy. Tony would be able to get him out of here. He had to. And then all of a sudden, he wasn’t so sure if Tony would come.

"Is this going to be a therapy session or what." Steve muttered and a punch came down on his jaw, he hissed. 

Suddenly the man had a knife in his hand and slammed it into Steves leg, just above his knee cap. The air stopped in his windpipe and came out in ragged breaths. He curled in on himself but the man grabbed his hair and pushed his head back so far that his front was exposed.

The other hand quickly jumped to his throat and pushed, pressed down hard. Steve gasped, choked and winced when a harsh thumb slid over his trachea and bore into it until hurt. 

"Want another knife in your leg, sweet thing?"

"Fuck you." Steves eyes were watering as his throat convulsed around nothing and the strain on the roots of his hair grew.

"Korotsnik!" He shouted. What kind of name was that. Immediately, a guard stepped inside and ran to him.

The man mumbled something in russian into the guards ear and Steves eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, his head still pushed back in an unnatural position.

The young guard didn’t say anything in response when they were finished, he just left the room again.

"Tell me blondie, do you like ice cream?" That wasn’t exactly the question he had expected. He just ignored it.

"Most people do, don’t they?" He chuckled and Steve was too tired to follow him. He just wanted to eat something. His stomach was growling with the need to digest something. Anything. The last time he ate or drank was... Steve couldn’t even tell how long ago he had been kidnapped due to the drugs and being out of it multiple times.

"Bring our Captain a little treat!" 

Steve snapped out of his thoughts.

A low whirring sound was thrumming in his ears as the plates of the seat began to shift and the seat was tilted back. Steve was now laying on his back and then head down before his whole body slipped backwards, his head hanging from the back of the seat in the air. His neck was exposed and stretched, the world was upside down.

"You look good like this. You don’t know how badly I want to get my knife on that throat." Steve had to swallow down a gulp of air which was kind of hard in his position.

He couldn’t see what was going on but something was placed underneath his head. It sounded like the rattling of a bucket.

"Say I’m sorry for being a brat, Sir. Final warning"

Stay down, final warning.

Would Tony have fired his repulsor if Bucky had not distracted him?

And then his head was pushed down and dunked into ice cold water, making him trash in the restraints, panic. There was water filling his mouth and nose as he tried to get his head out but a hand over his face pushed him back in. All he saw were two faces looking down at him, a finger pressed over his eye and bubbles clouding his vision. 

He felt like he was going to drown. Again. He was going to die here. He was going to die in the ice. He was going to die in the ice completely alone. And then he was going to end up as the man out of time. Nobody would be there to welcome him with open arms.

Suddenly the hand was gone and Steve surged up, coughing and lunging for air, his throat burning like hell.

"Say it." 

Steve didn’t comply, no not to this guy. He just couldn’t.

"Repeat." There was the hand over his face again. "NO-" Steve gasped but the rest of his words were muffled by the water and Steve tried to hold his breath but he didn’t last long, there still was water in his nose, burning and irritating.

After a few seconds he was twisting in the restraints again, his hands wanting to pull him away, his chest wanting to push forward and out of the water but he couldn’t.

He felt helpless, his damped voice throbbing in his ears as he choked and struggled for air. His lungs were filling with water and his heart beat uncontrollably, the panic of dying present in his head and body. Every single cell was fighting against the feeling of drowning, of dying.

His vision went blurry and darker as he felt the power leaving his neck that was pushing up against the hand.

Just before he lost consciousness he was pulled up by his wet hair and tossed from side to side, the water splashing to the ground and dripping down his naked chest.

He was barely aware of the fact that he could breathe now before he coughed, retched and spluttered and spat. 

"Say it!" 

Steve was breathing heavily, his mouth hanging open.

He whined in frustration when he saw a hand closing over his eyes. He shook his head because he didn’t want to do this anymore. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted it so stop.

"You can make it stop. Just say the words." Steve realized he had thought out loud. He shook his head, a wrenching sound close to a sob came out of his mouth as his head was pushed under water again.

"You think Tony will save you? He’s probably glad that he finally gets rid of you. You’re a burden. Nothing else. All you brought him was war. He had to go through a war because of you. This mess, it’s all your fault." The words hit Steve much deeper than he liked to admit. It was true. It was so true. It was his fault and he knew it. He couldn’t expect Tony to save him. Why would he do him that favor.

Steve didn’t say the words and after what felt like hours and hours of suffering, they finally stopped, left him to himself. He was swaying in and out of consciousness and he kept coughing up water even hours after they were gone.

He felt like he was dying. 

Very slowly.

He was hallucinating too as he saw Bucky standing in the corner a few times, looking at him with those worried eyes. It reminded him of Brooklyn and dirty streets.

One time there was Tony standing next to him, looking down at him with a warm and friendly smile. "Tony." Steve whispered and his eyes watered with joy.

Why did you do it, Rogers? It was all your fault. Tell me why. 

Steve tried to answer but his mouth wouldn’t move. He couldn’t tell Tony. He wanted to but his whole face was paralyzed.

I was wrong about you. I will never forgive you. All that you have done... there’s no going back and it’s all your fault. 

Steve cried out. His wrists were hurting, his head too, everything in his face felt so fuzzy and swollen, frozen and tight.

Tell me. Or I’ll walk away.

"Tony, no! Stay with me please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry Tony. All that I have done - You’re right it was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me but just listen to me!"

Goodbye, Steven.

"NO! TONY PLEASE, DON'T GO!" Steve begged and it was horrible to see Tony walking towards the door. He was going to leave him like everybody else did.

"Tony-" Steve whimpered and then he was gone. And with him the only safe place Steve had here. He was cold. The ice water was swimming on his bare chest and stomach. He shook it off and immediately felt dizzy, his head pounding, blood ringing in his ears that were still full with water.

They were going to kill him. He was going to die. And Tony would let him. Maybe, it was for the best.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony and the others had just arrived at their destination. Natashas jet had landed right next to his. T'Challa had informed him be was positioned close to them so if they needed help, he’d be there.

"Stark." Clint greeted him as he walked out of the jet.

"Back to last name basis, are we?" Tony said and nodded at Sam Wilson and the redhead next to him.

"Where is he." Her expression was neutral but her voice was worried.

"Theres a bunker not far away from here. They probably gave it a makeover and turned it into their own little castle." Tony explained.

"Tell me Stark, why again are you here? Weren’t you the one who said Steve Rogers could kiss your ass and rot in a cell for all he’s worth?" Clint spat and Tony could hear his anger talking. He had his reasons.

"Believe it or not, I’m not completely heartless. Ste- Rogers is a part of the Avengers. He always was. And we need to do everything we can to get him out of those fuckers hands." Clint gave him a calculating look before he walked up to him and reached out his hand. "For Steve." Tony looked back at him and shook his hand. "For Steve."

"Can we get this over now? I’m sure Steve doesn’t wait over there while knitting us a pair of socks." Sam said and Tony retrieved his hand. "Ok, here’s the plan."

——————

Steves throat still hurt like hell and was rough and sore from all the coughing. 

He was sitting straight again as he came to.

He was still dripping. 

His whole body was wet and glistening. But not with water, with sweat. His hair was wet too. Maybe it was the serum fighting the injected drugs or just his bodys way of coping with the fact that he had felt like dying over a stretched period of time. 

He cleaned his throat again.

"I see, you’ve woken up." 

Steves head swayed from side to side as he tried to open his eyes.

"How do you feel?" The sadistic voice said and Steve tried to blend it out, tried to stay calm.

Before he realized what was happening to him, there was a long, cold rod put into his drooling, open mouth.

"I always wanted to see how you react when theres an electronic rod shoved down your throat." Steve jerked at that and his eyes snapped open when the cold metal pressed against his hard palate.

"You should see yourself." The man said and he felt a warm hand stroking down his throat, making Steves eyes water with hatred.

"You can’t even do anything about it." He stated and pushed the stun gun down further, rubbing against his soft palate and triggering his gag reflex in the process. The blond gagged and felt tears running down his cheeks as well as snot and sweat gathering above his lip. Strikes of hair were clinging to his forehead and his lashes clumped together.

His already sore throat was burning and convulsing but the man didn’t stop and pushed it in further, making Steve cough and try to escape. His captor didn’t stop. He grabbed the back of his head and pushed him down on the stun gun.

The current terror of knowing that it would just take the push of a button to electrocute him was torturing and horrifying.

He clamped his eyes shut and trembled with panic, his heart once again pumping rapidly in his heaving chest. He felt the blood rushing in his ears.

And then the stun gun was pulled free in one swift motion and Steve slumped forward when the man jabbed it right into his side. The side where the scalpel had been, right where the area was still pink and punctured, bleeding.

Steve screamed in pain, a jolt went through his body as the shock went right through his bones and paralyzed him. He was panting. 

"Stop-" He begged and tugged at the restraints, whined as they didn’t move one bit and reminded him of how weak he was due to the drugs.

"Stop it." He cried out when he was hit there again and again. The man took turns on his stomach too and Steve could see the red angry dots on his skin.

By the end of it, he was covered in them, his chest, his arms, his legs. Everything was red and soon to be blue, bleeding.

He didn’t know when but his captor suddenly had two knifes in his hands.

"What a shame. I don’t really have to do this but you see... it is so much fun." The mans words echoed in Steves ears and it took him some time to process them.

"You sadistic fuck-" Steve shouted when the man carved deep lines into his chest, the knifes breaking his skin as they moved. He didn’t even realize the fact that there were being pictures taken before a bright lightening color appeared.

The man who took the picture came back to him and held it under his nose. "Look." He said proudly and what Steve saw made his stomach turn. It was a picture of him, sweating and dripping, sitting in the chair with the word HYDRA being carved into his chest. 

Was that his flip phone? 

He growled and looked away, jerking and shaking again but the man kept going, marking him up with words and sometimes just cuts on his arms or legs. The worst thing was that the wounds closed after a few minutes, only leaving a trail of dried blood on him. This allowed the man to start all over again. He felt like a sheet of paper that could be cut and thrown away like trash. 

He felt like a lab rat. A laboratory experiment. Like Tony once said. He felt worthless.

He hated every second of it.

When was Tony going to be here?

He wasn’t going to be here, was he.

He was such a fool, thinking he would be saved. This was all his fault.

Before he could lose himself in bis thoughts, he felt a finger pressing into the cut right above his heart. "Argh-" he gasped and made choked out noises when the gloved finger dug deeper and deeper into his skin. He threw his head back against the chair and grit his teeth, screaming when a knife came down on each of his thighs and stayed there. 

The guy wasn’t going to pull them out, he was going to leave them there and let his skin heal around them. 

He began to cry. 

The only thing he was proud of, was the fact that he hadn’t said the words that his captor wanted him to. It was the only thing that kept him going. To know that he was stronger than that. 

And when he was close to giving up, he thought about Tony and about how he was going to tell him if he ever got out of here again. Tell him how much he needed him and how everything was his own fault.

Probably never.

And then the man was right in front if him, staring at his blue eyes and smiling mischievously. "Now that I’ve done everything I can possibly think of, there is only one more thing I can do." 

Steve had no idea what he was talking about until there was a hand on his upper thigh, sliding down to his intimate area. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!" He shouted with sheer terror, his voice cracking as he twisted away from the strangers touch.

"I’m intimidated. Oh. Wait I’m not. Have you looked at yourself? You can barely move. I could just reach down here." The mans voice was now going soft and Steve hated it. He despised it. The fact that this guy was actually enjoying it made him gag.

"What do you say, sweet thing?" And then he was touching him - there.

Sweet thing. It’s what Tony always called others when they meant something to him. Pepper and sometimes even Rhodey. Or when he was talking to his robots.

This man didn’t have to right to call him that. He didn’t. It was just wrong.

"I’m going to kill you. I’m gonna kill you. STOP IT!" He shouted and at the same time tried to will down the erection that was starting to grow. 

"Oh, look at that. Does this turn you on, Captain?" He said and Steve had never in his life felt so humiliated and helpless. Never had anybody done this to him, never had anybody seen him so vulnerable and he felt dirty and cheap for letting this stranger see him like this.

"It’s okay. I’m going to take care of it." Steve shook his head wildly, his eyes pressed closed as he prayed for this to stop, to just be a bad dream. He struggled away from the mans hand and twisted and tugged in his restraints.

And then there was something warm rubbing him up and down, cupping him trough his underwear. It made him shiver and moan wetly.

"See, I knew you were going to like this." The man said and Steve began to sob, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as his erection betrayed him and grew even bigger with each stroke.

"What do you think would Stark think of you, if he saw you like this?" Steve whimpered at the thought and tensed when the hand sped up in its movement. 

"He’d laugh at how pathetic you are." His captor said and his free hand came to rest on Steves left knee, drawing circles on it.

All of it happened while there were two knifes stuck in his thighs. How fucked up was this.

"Leave him out of this!" Steve bit out and panted heavily as the pleasure built deep inside him.

"No. In fact, I think it is utterly important that you know that Tony is the reason you’re here. You really were stupid enough to come here. Pathetic." He said and the last word rung in his ears.

"Pathetic." He heard when he tried to shake off the mans hands.

He tried not to, but the pleasure eventually got too high to ignore, the tenderness of the touch felt too good and he came in his underwear. He arched his back and whined as he did so, the man stroking him through it and then leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek.

Steve jerked away from him and glared at him with disgust. He hated this man so much. He wanted to- he wanted- 

But he couldn’t. He was weak and useless. Even if he had his hands freed, he would just flail his arms around aimlessly.

"Good boy." He whispered in his ear and stroked over his chest and through his wet hair which would have been nice if the guy wasn’t who he was. If Tony would have done it- he would have leaned into it. He would have begged him to stay and do it again.

But Tony wasn’t here. Steve slumped back into his seat as the cum dried and made him feel sick, cheap and so vulnerable it hurt.

"When I come back were gonna start where we left off." He said and winked at him.

Steves eyes widened with fear. He didn’t want it. Not like this. He didn’t want this. 

It was going to happen and he couldn’t do anything but just take it. He cried, actually cried and let his head hang low. It was going to happen and he would have to take it all alone. Nobody would be there. And after that they would probably kill him. That’s what the man said on the phone to Tony. They were going to kill him and he thought back to all the things he should have done before this.

How he should have allowed himself fo just live a life. To just be happy. To make up for everything he did. To call Tony. To hug Bucky. To thank Sam. To talk to Nat. To help Wanda. To do all the things he should have done but couldn’t find the balls to do.

And now it would be over. What would Tony do if he was dead? Would he just go on with his life. He felt like he didn’t mean much to Tony these days. Who could blame him?


	7. Chapter 7

"Natasha, you got view on the back door?" Tony stated through the comms.

"Clint, whats your status." He felt weird since that part of the dialogue had always been Steves.

"I took out the four guards in front of the entry. The hall is empty and leads down to somewhere I don’t even wanna know."

"Ok, we’re coming to you. Nat, you go with him. I’ll be there in no time." Tony flew to the back door. "Sam, how many are there?"

"Looks like its the last resort. Nearly nobody on the roof, no heat resignations on the top floors. It’s the bunker we need to get to." Sam said. His words were slightly worried. Worried as in, he didn’t want to find Steve dead.

Tony tried to keep his cool as he finally reached Clint and Natasha in the hallway. There was a dark corridor leading downstairs. "There are three guards behind the door on the left and seven behind the door on the right. That second door must lead to Steve."

Natasha looked at him. "You and I we go into seven. Clint, you can manage three?"

"Am I a joke to you?" He whispered and shook his head as if offended.

They made their way over to the doors.

Tony stopped in his track when he heard a loud scream echoing through the corridor. Natashas and Clints eyes met. Then Natashas eyes snapped back to Tony, her eyes wide with horror. That was Steves voice. It sounded wrecked and horrible. God, what did they do to him?

A surge of anger washed over him once again and he hoped that it wasn’t too late yet.

"On three.“ Tony said and prepared to kick in the door.

"One, two-"

————————

It was some time later (again, Steve couldn’t tell how much time had passed) when the door creaked open and Steve heard a pair of alarming combat boots hitting the floor.

"Miss me, sweet thing?" He said. Steve didn’t even acknowledge the man.

He was at a point where nothin could shock him anymore. Or so he thought.

"You look like a mess." He said and Steve looked down on himself, black and blue bruises meeting his eyes as well as the still bleeding side from where the scalpel had been. The skin around the knifes in his thighs had already started to heal and Steve cringed at the thought of having them pulled out. 

"Time to get these out don’t you think." Steves blood coiled at the words that were spoken with so much joy. He felt nauseous.

The man came to a stop in front of his legs and steadied himself on Steves knees. Steve nearly lost consciousness as he winced quietly.

"You want these out?" Hands wrapped around the knifes and wiggled them from side to side.

"No, no, no, no-"

And then he pulled them out. 

Steve had never in his life felt so much pain. It was as if he pulled out a bone or a muscle, just ripping it right out of Steves body.

He screamed so loud that it hurt his voice and he clenched his jaw, trashed in the restraints and cried out again. He was in so, so much pain.

His eyes were screwed shut as he sobbed and desperately tried to free himself but slumped down in defeat.

"LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE-" Steve didn’t know what to say anymore.

He was bleeding continuously now, his thighs covered in shining blood. Black dots appeared in front of his eyes.

"We haven’t gotten to the best part yet." The voice said with a chuckle and he felt the mans dirty hands wrapping around his waist and Steve shook his head. "Stay away f-from me." He whispered.

"I’m going to ruin you."

And then the hands around his waist were gone and Steve heard a loud noise, almost like a bang before he saw a blue light shining into the rather dark room.

He didn’t even realize there was somebody talking to him. 

But he felt hands on his shoulders and he tensed up, flinched away from them. They stayed there. 

"No. Stop it." He said quietly as his head was dropping forward, shaking.

And then he felt the hands wandering to the front, over his chest. "Leave me alone!" He cried out with all the power be had left because he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let this happen to him. He didn’t want it. Not like this.

"Hey, big guy. It’s me." A voice said and Steves eyes opened a little bit now, his mouth gaping in disbelieve. He was dreaming.

He HAD to be dreaming.

"God, what did they do to you." He heard and Steve couldn’t trust himself as he recognized the voice. He’d recognize it anywhere.

Tony.

It couldn’t be true. 

"-ny." he slurred, his voice rough and weak.

"Yeah, Steve. I’m here. I’m here. God-" Steves chest constricted with relief. He was safe.

Tonys eyes were focused on Steve only, taking in his face and his half-closed eyes.

"Come on, we need to get you out of here-" The deep voice of no one else but Tony said. Steve was close to crying. He was here. Tony was here.

"Tony-" Steve whimpered and tried to keep his eyes open, tried to search for his brown eyes.

"What-" Tony said worriedly and Steve almost keened as he felt Tonys and not a strangers fingers card through his hair and cup his face.

"I’m sorry-" he whispered as he leaned into the touch. Sad eyes were looking down at him and Steve wondered how horrible the sight of himself really was. 

"No, none of that now. Come on. Get up." Tony said and Steve shook his head, "Can’t- drugged me-" 

"They what-?" Tony looked at him incredulously and finally it all made sense. The restrains were not made to hold somebody like Steve Rogers. The supersoldier would have easily escaped them.

"What did they give you? Did they drug you? Did they poison you?!"

"It’s okay, I’m fine." Steve panted. Tony ignored Steves words and searched for injuries. His hands wandered down on Steves legs. He saw the two huge wounds right over his knees. He winced at the sight. He opened the restraints easily and the skin underneath came away red, bruised and swollen. The mechanic massaged the abused skin there and gasped at how cold Steves feet were. Hands too. Like ice 

Tony wrapped an arm around Steves trim waist as he tried to get up. He felt the blonds back heaving and rippling with pain.

And then Tony really looked at Steve. He hadn’t seen him for nearly a year now. He had a scruff on his jaw, brown and a little red. His hair was darker now, a few strands of blond were still shining through. His left cheek was heavily bruised and his chest looked horrible, covered in blood and underneath it were red dots, probably from a stung gun. 

His side looked the worst. There was an angry, open wound right over his ribs. And Tony wasn’t sure if what he saw there was bone or muscle. 

Steve slumped against him. He tried to steady himself but his legs were too weak. Tony mustered him "Are you sure you can walk?"

"Yes -wanna get out of here. Is- Is he dead?" Steve asked and Tony nodded. "Nat took him out before he..." Steve hissed under his breath before muttering "Good! That’s good." Tony didn’t budge "What was he even doing to you?"

"Later." Steve said and Tony gazed at him just a second longer before he helped Steve out of the bunker. 

Later?

The stairs were the worst thing and finally, Tony decided to gather Steve in his arms and flew him to the jet. The iron man suit was comfortable against Steves hot skin. He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the story so far! I had to get Steve out of there. I wanted them to reunite :)))


	8. Chapter 8

Tony watched as Steve slumped down in the chair in the jet. He watched as Steve fell asleep, absentmindedly tracing the mans eyebrows. He caught himself and felt a flush creeping up on his cheeks before he pulled away.

"Where are we going, Tony?" Natasha said as she entered the jet.

"I know a place. Nobody will know you’re there." She shot him a look that said something like Seriously?

"It’s safe, okay? Even I haven’t been there for years. I own the place. It’s huge. Now fuckin stop looking at me like I don’t own half the planet."

"He needs some medical attention." Natasha pointed out and Tony looked down at Steve. He looked so young and vulnerable with his closed eyes. "I know."

———————

When Steve woke up, he heard voices talking, people walking and the sound of dishes clinking. He slowly opened his eyes. Where was he? His eyes slowly began to adjust to his surroundings. The jet. They had saved him. The bunker. Tony-

"I think he woke up!" He heard somebody say. Was that Natasha? "Did he do anything?" Tonys voice. And his eyelids fell closed again, the information that there were people around him he could trust and that Tony was alive and safe putting him into a peaceful sleep.

The next time he woke, he felt something soft and at the same time itchy underneath his left shoulder. He then realized there were bandages around his chest and thighs. He made an almost croaking noise as he tried to sit up. 

A gentle hand pushed down on his front. "Hey, careful Rogers. Lay down, will ya?" Tonys voice? Jesus, for one year Steve didn’t see him at all and now he was there all the time. Steve couldn’t believe his luck.

"You need to get some rest, can you do that?" Steve nodded and immediately regretted it as pain raced down his side. He cringed. "Shh, I’m here." Steve looked up and really, there he was, Tony looming over him, a small smile on his lips as he looked right back at him. "Sleep." He said and Steve closed his eyes again.

"Was he responding?" He heard. Clint? "Yes, I think he’ll be okay until we reach our destination. I’ll let the Doctor there have a look at his wound." Tony said and Steve listened to his voice as he felt Tonys hand stroking carefully over his shoulder. 

"Are you okay?" Steve heard Natasha ask. "Yes. Better now." Tony said and Steve couldn’t shake the feeling of two pairs of eyes staring down at him in the thick silence that followed.

And then, he really fell asleep. The next time he woke up, there was something warm and soft surrounding him. His eyes shot open and he was facing a white wall, on his left was a window. He could see bright light and trees outside. Green. Oh, how he had missed to see it.

He slowly looked down on himself. The bandages had been changed. The lower part of his body was covered with a white, clean blanket. It smelled like oranges in here. Tony.

His eyes frantically snapped to the closed door on his right, dreading to open it and look. He became more and more uncomfortable in his sheets, fidgeting with it and craning his neck every now and then to look out of the window. 

He slowly tried to get himself into a sitting position. It probably took him minutes, his throbbing side making it a living hell.

When he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet dug into a fuzzy, curly mat underneath his feet and he relished the soothing feeling of something soft. 

Just as he was forcing himself into a standing position, the door was pushed open. "What are you doing?!" Steves eyes shot up and met Tonys. He was standing in the doorway. He looked furious.

"I’m sorry, I-"

"Which part of you need to rest, didn’t you understand?" He nearly shouted and ran up to Steve, catching him in his arms. "I can stand!" Steve protested but he gave way and let Tony heave him back into the bed. "No, you can’t." He growled.

"I can!"

"But you shouldn’t!" Tony shouted and Steve flinched at his loud voice, his head stinging. "Sorry." Tony then said, almost not audible as he tugged the blanket over Steve and picked up a glas with a straw from the nightstand.

"Here. Drink." Tony whispered and sat down on the bedside. Steve mustered him before he let Tony push the straw into his open mouth. The mechanic was wearing elegant trousers, a white shirt underneath a blue suit jacket. His outfit a stark contrast to Steve in a hospital gown. Tony was in good form, he noted to himself as he swallowed gulps of water.

The moment was so private, so personal, just the two of them, Tony helping Steve to drink. It was surreal. Steve loved it.

"How do you feel?" The other man asked after Steve had finished his water.

"I’m fine." Steve lied. He wanted to be, but he was far from fine.

Tony looked at him, his eye made a little twitch as he stood up and walked to the front of the bed. "Okay, let’s try that again. How do you really feel?"

Steve sighed heavily, not wanting to meet Tonys eyes, he looked out of the window. "God Tony I feel... it’s hard to talk about feelings for me."

"You don’t say." Steve let a quiet chuckle slip. Then his eyes fell and he hung his head in shame. "I thought you wouldn’t come and ... get me." Tony turned around, he couldn’t let Steve see him like this. He still felt awful.

"I thought you would leave me there and let me die. I thought I... deserved it." 

A few months ago, Tony would have laughed and said something like "Maybe you do."

But now all that anger had vanished.

Tonys head snapped back at him. "That’s not true."

"For me it is." And Tony took a breath because he wanted to say something but he couldn’t think of anything fitting.

Silence.

Steve went on "The fight we had was my fault. The split of the Avengers was my fault. It was all my fault. If I had told you... If I hadn’t fallen for HYDRAs trap you wouldn’t be concerned about me... See how I screwed up again? I endangered you and Natasha and Clint and Sam. I’m so-" pathetic.

"The fight we had WAS your fault, you idiot." That was what he had wanted to tell Cap all those times. He wanted to tell him so much more. Tell him how much he hated him and how he fucked up and ruined everything.

But now that he was actually facing Steve, seeing him laying there as pale as the sheets over him, looking up at hims with eyes full of hurt and guilt, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say that. He couldn’t.

"Partially. Was my fault too. And Rogers?" Steve seemed like he had zoned out, his eyes unfocused, glassy, hooded.

"Hey." He said and sat down on the side of the bed again. His eyes focused on Tony.

"It’s not your fault that you were kidnapped. Did you know that they had my Doppelgänger eat a Wiener Schnitzel in Moscow?! How weird is that. He really looked like me. You fell for it. They kidnapped you. Not your fault, Rogers."

"But I should’ve-"

"Uh." Tony put his finger right over Steves lips and maybe it was a gesture far too intimate but he didn’t care.

"No. Okay? That was not your fault, get it through your head!" He said very fiercely now and Steve remained silent. Tony was probably right. He hoped Tony was right.

"What were you expecting when you visited my room, Rogers?" Tony asked with a dirty smirk and got a blush as an answer.

"I don’t know. I guess I thought you and I could..." Steve was at a loss for words, his thoughts were confusing him.

"Have a heated discussion?" He could feel Steves eyes on his lips as he spoke. It made him uneasy. Steve never stared. He only looked. Calculating.

But this, this was different.

"I would’ve asked you for forgiveness." Steve managed and Tonys brow quirked up in interest. "Yeah? You would have begged me? On your knees and everything?" Steve laughed. "Yeah, Tony. On my knees." Tony liked the smile that spread out on the mans face.

The engineer sat down next to him and patted his shoulder. Steve knew that look on his face. It was pity. "I’m sorry about what happened to you, you know?"

"Thanks."

"What did he, you know..." Tony cleaned his voice. "...do?"

Steve had hoped to NOT have this conversation.

"He tried to make me say stuff. It wasn’t that bad."

Tonys eyes widened in disbelief. "Excuse me? Not that bad? You had blood and bruises all over you. Your side was bleeding like there was no end and your knees- don’t get me started on your knees."

"Tony, I don’t want to talk about-"

"It’s funny because we found your flipphone in the basement. Some gross and horrible pictures were on there. So no, we have to talk about it."

" No, we don’t." Steve growled.

"Just because they didn’t kill you, doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen." 

"It’s... it is personal." Steve stated more coldly than he had intended. But he didn’t want to talk about it. Not at all.

"And? You mean, you’re just gonna keep it from me? Like you always do!?" Tony was feeling rage surging deep inside of him. Every time. Every time they were close to talking like normal people, Steve shut down.

"So typical."

Steve looked at him with an expression of hurt on his face.

Tony felt bad now. Great.

"Okay! Then don’t talk about it. Let’s just keep on not trusting each other. LETS JUST NOT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT EACH OTHER!"

Steve shook his head.

"YOU DON'T HAVE THE BALLS TO TALK TO ME, DO YOU?! THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT! WHAT WAS I EXPECTING?! IT'S ALWAYS THE SAME. LOOK AT SIBERIA-"

Steve had enough.

"HE JERKED ME OFF, WAS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?!"

"BECAUSE- wait what?" Tony stopped his speech.

"I’m not gonna say it again." 

"H-He raped you?!" Tony hissed, disturbance and regret lying in his eyes as he stared at Steve, his eyes wide.

"I’m not sure but then he... then he wanted to... to... but then you guys were there. He just touched me-" His stomach felt like it was going to turn. Tony saw him fidgeting with the sheets. "Steve-"

"I don’t wanna talk about it." He said and turned away from Tony. He would probably say something like 'why didn’t you give him a speech about patriotism'.  
It wasn’t that big of a deal, really, for Steve. Of course it was s huge deal for him but in hindsight it could’ve been worse.

"I... I didn’t know. I thought-"

"Don’t worry about it. I’m okay now." Steve murmured but Tony knew that wasn’t true.

"That sick son of a bitch. I want to kill him again. How could this happen?"

"I don’t know. The drugs made me so weak and... I couldn’t fight him off. Tony, I tried!" Steve explained, only to be met by unbelieving eyes. "Steve, I meant how I could let you be kidnapped. I always had you under surveillance... If I only-"

"Hey Tony- Tony-" Steves voice was weak. 

"It was nobodys fault. Like you said." Steve told him with a smile. Tonys lips shut and gave him a small smile in return. Steve looked at him with a certain glimmer in his eyes. "You had me on surveillance?" Tony rolled his eyes. 

"Are you sure you are okay, Cap?"

Cap. That one again.

"I am, Tony."

"You sure?"

He smiled a little. "Yes, Tony I’m sure."

"You sure you don’t want to talk about it?" Tony pressed and Steve eventually gave in as much as he could allow himself.

"Maybe another time. Right now.. can we just-"

"Sure uhm... I... we gotta get the doctor." 

"No. It’ll heal. The wounds I mean." The memories will be burned into my brain forever. Serum makes me remember everything vividly.

Tony gave him a curt nod. He didn’t want to make Steve any more uncomfortable than he already was around him. "I’ll leave you to yourself. I’ll just go outside 'nd let you... sleep."

"Tony-" Can you stay with me? I’m scared.

"You going to be alright?"

"Yes, thanks."

Tony gave him another nod, looking him over one last time.

He was nearly out the door before he stopped in his tracks and turned back around. "Do you want some company? I mean-"

"Yes!" Tony was a bit taken aback by Steves quick answer.

"I mean, yes. Please." Steve said with a more controlled voice this time. Tony looked down at him. Oh Steve. Why couldn’t he just ask.

"But only if you have time-" Steve added.

"For gods sake, Rogers. Just scoot over!" Tony muttered and jumped on the bed, careful to not bump into Steve.

The stark contrast between Tonys expensive outfit and Steve who was wearing nothing but a hospital gown was odd.

Tony sunk against the lifted back of the bed, swinging his legs over the edge. He couldn’t help but brush Steves arm in the process and he felt the other man shiver at the light touch.

"Are you cold?" He asked and mustered Steve, the blond looking down, his shoulders tense.

"N-No. I just forgot-" Steve didn’t go on. Tony knew what he was talking about.

"You forgot what it’s like if someone touches you in a nice way?" Steve nodded slowly.

"Come on. Get in here." Tony said casually and opened his arms for Steve to lean into him, his head falling against his chest in exhaustion.

"There you go, big guy. You got nothing to worry about." Tony whispered and Steve felt the mans heart beating steadily, his chest rising and falling.

"I know." Steve said quietly.

"You can rest now, Steve."

"Can, can you say that again?" Tony looked at him with a questioning expression. "Please." Steve said quietly and burried his head in Tonys neck.

Tony hadn’t called him Steve in years. It felt too good to be hearing his name falling from Tonys lips.

"Steve." Tony said and he must’ve realized why the other man wanted him to say that. "Steve." He whispered again, his hand stroking down the mans heaving back. He could feel his heart beating rapidly, too fast for a normal human being.

He got a weak sigh as an answer. Tony smiled and the hand on Steves back stilled, wandered ho to his neck and caressed the short hair there. "My, Steve." He said. 

"Tony-" and he heard Steves breath becoming shorter. And then they were looking at each other, the blonds eyes beginning to water. "Tony, I am so-" he shuddered. "I am so sorry-" He whimpered and Tony was helpless, was just looking at Steve while he started crying. "I’m-" Steve burried his face in his hands. And Tony was still staring at him. It was like he was frozen. He couldn’t move. What should he say???

"You should go." Steve suddenly said. Tony didn’t want to go. He shook his head weakly. What was happening- "Cap-"

"No! I’m- I’m no good for you because-" Steve was shivering now, still close to Tony.

"I want to make it up to you. I owe you. And sometimes it feels like I can make it up to you, like I can still save this but then-" He gasped for breath. "Then you say my name and I realize that you deserve better. You deserve a family and a life without difficulties. All I do is ruin your life." Steve was practically sobbing by now.

"Tony." He said, more like a question. Tony looked up. "Steve, I understand that you feel that way but-" He stopped, seeing how Steve was trembling. Gone was the Captain America. This was only him. Steven Grant Rogers.

"I know we could be better. But-" He couldn’t have this conversation right now. "Gosh, Rogers. Why do you always make everything so complicated?!" His voice had become more erratic now, helpless.

"You’re right, I'm sorry." Steve huffed out a breath. The guy just always had to apologize, didn’t he?

"Don’t worry about us. We’re going to be okay."

"But-"

"No, Steve. I’m serious. We’re going to be okay." That seemed to mute the blonds brain and he slumped back against Tonys chest, his eyes closed.

"It’s too quiet." Steve said finally and Tonys breath hitched. "When I was down there, it was always so quiet and the only thing I ever heard was that guys voice..." 

"You want me to talk? I mean I have a lot to talk about. Talking about a lot. Do you know the average lifetime of a turtle-" 

"Oh god, Tony." Steve chuckled wholeheartedly and Tony saw the smile playing on his lips. 

Tony was

"I missed you, Steve."

"I missed you too, Tony."

Tony stroked through Steves hair. "Do you want to hear about the turtles now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love me some angst with a happy ending :))) Hope you enjoyed it thank you for reading my people 🥰


End file.
